


Computer Fan

by precariousStargazer



Series: Omnistuck [1]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/precariousStargazer/pseuds/precariousStargazer
Summary: When I was little, the strangest things brought me comfort and lulled me to security...
Series: Omnistuck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787158
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Computer Fan

_We need you to stay late tonight._

“Can’t I just come in early instead? I have a toddler at home.”

_… Fine. That’ll work. But you’ll have to be in pretty damn early. Before daybreak even._

Whatever the hell some boring office needed him in at four a.m. for, David would never know. He’d long suspected that the repetitive, cubicle work that was far too easy to get in to was part of some shady dealings in order to merely stay afloat. This was most likely a part of that.

So now he was up at three, getting his suit on and throwing together a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the heavily sedated figure on the couch, whenever he eventually regained consciousness. Crushing the extra sedatives and anti-psychotics, he spread the powder between layers of filling, setting the plate quietly on the side table along with a note:

_“Had to go in early. Took Caly with me. Be back later. Getting Chinese for dinner. Please take your meds.”_

He knew his plea would never be heeded, so there was no choice but to trick Diederik as though he were a stubborn dog.

With his suitcase packed with the needed paperwork, David finally headed in to only bedroom in the cramped trailer. Calypso was still awfully small for a four-year-old, he was beginning to worry about her health in spite of the doctor’s assurance that she had successfully survived the obstacles typically faced by premature babies. This was supposedly expected, but he still worried. He made a mental note to pick up some of those rich-in-essential-nutrients children’s formulas that were advertised on TV so often.

Until the mostly chocolate-filled drinks could finally turn his baby sister into a healthy giant, the sleeping toddler barely took up any space on the absolutely enormous twin-sized mattress. Wild, snow white hair practically hid her face entirely, while the rest of her hid beneath the heavy comforter.

Sitting at the edge, he gingerly stroked her head.

“Caly, you gotta wake up now. You’re gonna be comin’ to work with me today...!”

“Mmmmhn… Don’t wanna…” She curled further into the blanket and hair.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice, kiddo,” He murmured and far too easily scooped her up in to his lap, chuckling as she writhed in annoyance.

“… Stay with Die-Die...?” Her question was half-garbled by a yawn, but the essential part was clear, and the lines on his face continued to deepen.

“No, baby, that ain’t gonna work. Die-Die’s sick, remember? ‘M sorry, but we’ll bring your blankie and pillow, and I’ll even let ya pick out a snack from the vending machine.”

“Even Snickers for breakfast...???”

“Even Snickers for breakfast.”

* * *

Even with the promise of Snickers for breakfast, Calypso was struggling to stay awake on the trip over to the office building. Her head lolled side to side like a ragdoll with each bump and pothole of the highway, only finding support when she propped against the too high seat belt.

The newfound comfort was short-lived, however, as the old station wagon pulled in to the closest parking spot and the warm rumbling of the engine was halted. Perks of being an early bird meant only a brief walk between the bitter night air and heated office building.

“C’mon, hon, you can sleep inside,” He grunted, lifting the dead weight of a tired toddler in one arm while the blanket, pillow, and suitcase were tucked under the other. A small smile graced his lips as she clung tighter to his suit jacket.

Shutting the door with his hip, he made a light jog for the building, holding the suitcase between his knees while he fumbled one-handedly with his keys. Lukewarm air greeted them both, flickering fluorescence guiding the way to the elevator and chasing them up to the twelfth floor. The old lift shuttered and shook, long since overdue for some maintenance that the cheap-ass corporate bastards deemed as unnecessary expense. Calypso whined at the loud grinding of gears.

Bouncing her in his arm lightly, David swayed on his feet to a deaf rhythm, muttering against her hair to distract her.

_“I said a hip, hop, the hippie, the hippie to the hip, hip, hop and you don’t stop the rock it to the bang, bang boogie, say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat-”_

She giggled, encouraging him to continue.

_“Now, what you hear is not a test, I’m rapping to the beat. And me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet. See, I am Wonder Dave and I’d like to say ‘hello’, to the black, to the white, the red and the brown, the purple and yellow.”_

The elevator finally came to a halt with a raspy ding, masked entirely by sleepy laughter and ridiculous rhymes. The dulcet tones of _“Rapper’s Delight, featuring David Lalonde”_ having lulled Calypso into a gentle snore, he stepped on to the much more stable carpeted flooring that was sporting the latest neon funk design. Something about raising employee morale and making the workspace feel more welcoming.

He auto-piloted to his cubicle, barely needing to glance over the stack of red floppy disks in varying shades, the fatback monitor with sunglasses-wearing smiley stickers, and the custom name tag bearing the title “Mr. Cool guy Davey” in rainbow crayon to recognize the place he had spent the last four years supporting his family. He hefted his suitcase on to his desk, tossing the linens on the seat of his swivel chair, and pried the little leech from his chest with much protest. She gained enough consciousness to keep her feet underneath her, though her eyelids were hesitant to pull their own weight.

“Okay, I know you’re tired,” He picked up the linens and guided her arms to hold them well enough. “But you can take these and sleep as long as you like now.” He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, before taking a load off while the chair squeaked in depressed resignation.

With familiar motions he jabbed the power button on the computer tower, standing below his desk in near solitude, accompanied only by tangled wires on the wayside. The obnoxious beep triggered the start of an endless, dusty whirring, while the monitor burned through the darkness of an office just before sunrise.

* * *

He had been typing away for what felt like a good few minutes before seeing the still standing figure of his sister out of the corner of his eye. His head whipped around to look at her, worried that she had somehow fallen asleep on her feet.

“Caly…?”

With a quiet grunt, the nickname seemed to start a chain reaction. Calypso turned slowly, like a soldier in march, dropping the linens at her feet before dropping to her knees. She crawled clumsily beneath the desk, plopping the pillow right beside the vacant side of the tower, before dragging the blanket along and rolling up in it.

“Nigh-nigh, Davey…”

He watched her, barely suppressing a warm laugh, “Night night, my little Cal.”

From four in the morning until noon, the dusty computer fan and quiet tick-tacking of the keyboard kept his baby sister fast asleep in the old office building.

**Author's Note:**

> _I wonder... Can our story be remembered after all?_


End file.
